


Sticks and Stones

by Solemini (SoleminiSanction), SoleminiSanction



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Break Up, Canon Compliant, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Critique of Canon, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drama, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Drama, Flawed characters, Multi, Non-Romantic Kissing, Team as Family, Unhealthy Relationships, reality ensues, relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoleminiSanction/pseuds/Solemini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoleminiSanction/pseuds/SoleminiSanction
Summary: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can cause lasting psychological damage."The Core Four stage a long-overdue intervention.Or, in which Steph's abusive tendencies are finally addressed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Emotional abuse
> 
> With much thanks to salazarastark for the beta.
> 
> This is not a character-bashing fic. But it is a very deliberate criticism of Steph’s canonical behavior, which her fans (including the creative team behind her run as Batgirl) have too often ignored, forgotten, tried to justify, or out-right lionized. If seeing that called out is going to upset you, this is not the story for you.
> 
> If you're one of those people who believes that a woman in a relationship with a man can never be the abuser, you are cordially invited to go piss up a hill.

“God Tim, you are so _ stupid _.” 

The words bring Cassie up short. She's outside Robin’s room at Titan’s Tower. The door is ajar and through its crack, she can see the back of a blond head and an all-encompassing purple costume.

Spoiler, their newest trial member, is kneeling on Tim’s bed. She holds onto him from behind, bare hands tangling in his hair. She digs her fingers in to his scalp and tugs at the black strands. 

“I can hear you thinking. Stop _ thinking._ God, you really have no idea how to act like a normal person, do you?” 

Tim mutters something that Cassie can’t hear and moves like he’s trying to duck his head. But Spoiler holds firm and tugs him back with a snort.

“Please. Just look at yourself. You can’t even keep your haircut under control.” 

She tousles his hair again, hard and fast. Cassie winces. If Tim still wore as much gel as he had in their younger years, that could have hurt. A lot. 

“You’re lucky I came back when I did. Now come on, stop being a baby and take off your shirt.”

Without waiting for an answer, Spoiler reaches around Tim and starts undoing the clasps of his tunic.

Cassie almost steps in, only to stop without quite touching the door. Things have been understandably tense with Tim since they…she…well. She doesn’t regret anything they did, and that includes breaking up. Still, to eavesdrop and then go barging in on a conversation in Tim’s private room, with his _ real _ girlfriend? That’s definitely out of line.

So, she steps away. She leaves Robin and Spoiler to their quiet evening alone and tries to forget the bad taste it leaves in her mouth. 

  


* * *

After the chaos of Darkseid’s invasion, Cassie hears that Robin and Spoiler have broken up and breathes a sigh of relief. Guilt immediately follows. Tim is no longer Robin. His mentor is dead, his life is falling apart, and Spoiler’s betrayal was a part of that. Her did love her, after all. Or, at least, Cassie assumes he did. 

But then, despite all odds, things get better. 

Bart and Conner are _ alive _ . They come back from the future and rejoin the Titans and hunt Tim down where he’s hiding. Together, they drag him out of the dark. Tim — _Red_ Robin now — comes home, and they help him save Batman’s legacy, right before he turns around and pulls the dead man himself out of the timeline like magic.

Then Damian decides to stay in Gotham, and Tim starts coming back to the Tower and, while things can never go back to exactly what they were, they are better. Tim seems better. Happier. More at ease.

Until it comes out that he is, once again, dating Spoiler.

* * *

“Batgirl,” Tim corrects with a dry chuckle. “She’s Batgirl now. And she worked hard for it, so calling her ‘Spoiler’ is a good way to piss her off.”

He says it like a joke. Cassie doesn’t laugh. 

They’re in the common area of the Titans Tower dorm floor they share with Conner and Bart. It’s a six-room floor, and other teammates — like Mia, M’gann, Jaimie and Rose — have filled the empty rooms in the past. But, as Titans came and went and their foursome remained, it became more and more their space. It’s a place for privacy, now, where there are no secrets between them. 

Tim and Cassie are sharing the couch and a pot of hot cocoa. Tim sits with his back to a corner, tucked tight into the seam where cushions meet. His spine is straight, his legs crossed, and he’s keeping all his limbs to himself.

Cassie, in her pajamas with her legs up and one arm stretched along the back cushions, doesn’t like the tightness in his expression, nor the way his laugh doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What happened to the old Batgirl? The quiet one Kon talks about. Is she…?”

“She’s fine, now.” Tim waves her concerns away in the well-established sign for ‘family business, don’t ask.’ “She decided to pursue a different angle after…y’know, everything. Besides, Steph needed Batgirl more.”

_ Like Damian needs Robin more? _

Cassie drowns the traitorous words in chocolate. She knows she’s not the only one who still resents Nightwing…Batman…_Dick_ for trying to force the replacement Robin onto their team. But Tim seems to have moved past that, and leaving family drama at the door is a foundation of their friendship. 

Tim likewise becomes preoccupied with his layer of marshmallow foam. His mouth is solidly full when he makes a sudden noise like he’s remembered something and sets the mug aside. “Speaking of, I won’t be here next weekend.”

“Why?”

“Well, since we got back together, Steph — Batgirl — has been kind of upset that we don’t go out on the weekends. But she’s also never been keen on teams so coming here, probably not a good idea. So, there’s nothing for it but to split my time.”

He already splits his time. Tim spends four or five days a week in Gotham, running his Wayne Tech research and the Neon Knights program and patrols through his designated territory. Compared to Conner, Bart and Cassie, who will all come back to the Tower even on school nights sometimes, Tim is gone a lot.

Worse, now that she thinks about it, he’s acted different the last few months even when he’s around. He apologizes more, speaks up less, defers to others’ decisions and gives instructions only when asked. In the mornings, he’ll drag himself down to the crowded central rec room even though the loud noises make him wince. And just now, when they’d started talking, she’d asked about his projects back home and he’d just turned away, mumbling that he wouldn’t want to bore her by carrying on. 

He must catch her expression, because he forces another dry laugh. “It’s not like I’m quitting. I’ve got my comm for emergencies, and I’ll still be around. Just, not every weekend.”

“If that’s what you want.”

His expression falters. He looks stricken. Then, the Bat-poker-face slides into place and he nods. 

Cassie sets her mug aside and scoots closer. There should be no masks between them here. “Tim, are you sure?”

“Of course.” He pulls another awful, thin smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to be here. But that’s just how relationships go. You have to make compromises.”

“Does she?”

He doesn’t get the chance to respond. An alarm blares and Gar, from monitor duty, orders them all to suit up and hurry downstairs. By the time Cassie looks his way again, Tim is already long gone. 

* * *

True to his word, Red Robin leaves Titans Tower on Sunday night and doesn’t return the next weekend. That Sunday afternoon, Cassie flies in on Bart and Conner’s bi-weekly gaming session. They're both on the floor when she approaches. She settles, cross-legged, onto the couch behind them.

“What do you guys know about Batgirl? The new one, who used to be Spoiler.”

“I know she’s a bitch,” says Conner at once, which takes Cassie by surprise. He’s never spoken so crudely about other heroes, even before he moved in with the Kents and was molded into a good ol’ fashioned Kansas boy.

It startles Bart too, enough that his digital car goes straight off the track and vaporizes in a burst of color. “How so? Wait, you know her?”

“We’ve met.” 

Wow. Cassie’s heard Kon speak of _ Luthor _ in warmer tones. 

He turns off the console in the midst of his pre-rendered victory lap and faces Cassie head-on. “Why?” 

“I don’t know her very well. Which is kind of weird, right? Tim’s been dating her for ages.”

“She helped us in Zandia,” says Bart, his words running together with pent-up energy. “Remember? With Empress’s grand-dad. Though she was really grumpy the whole time, I think because Secret tried to beat her up once. But then…” He screws up his face, the way he does when digging through his stores of memorized facts and figures. “It wasn’t just at Secret. She didn’t talk to anybody. I think she spent the whole time sulking.”

“Is that when you met her?” Cassie asks Conner. He folds his arms across his chest and scowls.

“No,” he says with the hint of a growl. “Remember that month Tim went missing? When his dad found out he was Robin and made him quit?” 

Bart and Cassie both nod. Her stomach knots at the memory.

“Yeah, she took his job. And she wasn’t asked to, either. No ‘carry on my name’ or ‘hold the fort until he comes back.’ No, she heard that Tim quit, and decided that meant she got to be Robin instead.” His scowl turns into a full-on snarl, the kind he only wears during fights. “Who does that to a friend? Let alone someone you’re dating? It’s like she didn’t care how he felt at all!”

His anger resonates with the concern Cassie hasn’t been able to put into words. Her hands curl into fists. “Was that the first time they broke up?”

Conner huffs. “A little after, I think. Then she went off and let everyone think she was dead for a year. Rob blamed himself for it.”

Of course he did.

“And I’ve heard her sometimes, too. When they ‘argue’? It’s never Tim who shouts”

“I’m worried about him,” Cassie confesses. “They got back together while you guys were…gone. I overheard them a few times. I don’t like how she talks to him.”

“She’s the reason he’s not here, isn’t she?” says Bart, insightful as ever. 

Cassie nods. “She doesn’t like that he’s spending so much time without her. And the way he’s been acting lately…I think something’s wrong. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like he’s…”

“Hurt?” 

“Hurt_ing _.” Cassie shakes her head. “I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things.”

“But what if you’re not?” Conner rises enough to slide onto the couch beside her, covering a hand with his own. “That’s what you’re thinking. If you’re not imagining things…”

“…then Tim’s in trouble.” There’s a rush of wind, and Bart is on her opposite side. His eyes are wide as saucers. “So what do we do?”

We. So much relief in one little word.

Cassie turns her hand to hold Kon’s, breathes a sigh as she feels the burden lift, and lays out the only plan she can think of: 

“We talk to him.”

* * *

Tim doesn’t come back the next weekend, either. Or the one after. His e-mailed apologies and explanations of Gotham chaos do nothing to soothe Cassie’s nerves.

Just as she’s is ready to say, “Fuck Batman’s rules” and fly in to extract him herself, a Bat-plane appears on the eastern horizon. Half the team rushes to the rooftop landing pad to greet him. It’s been three weeks since the Titans have seen their co-leader, and that is far, far too long. 

Tim emerges in full cape and cowl, which covers everything but the easy, relaxed grin he’s using to make his apologies. It’s enough to pacify Kiran, Gar and Jaimie, but Conner catches Cassie’s eye across the crowd and shakes his head. She catches his meaning: that’s Tim Wayne’s smile. A fake, practiced mask.

Between the welcome back and the various debriefings and round of new training drills, they don’t manage to get Tim alone until after dinner. Even then, he slips past the three of them and disappears into his room before anyone can so much as suggest a movie night. 

Conner, Cassie and Bart gather outside his door and hover there long enough that he must know they’re lurking. Still, the door remains closed. A silent glance between the three elects Cassie to take the first step. She knocks.

“Tim? Can we talk?”

…

No answer. The long silence makes her stomach squirm. 

Conner sighs, leaning his shoulder into the wall beside the door. “C’mon buddy, don’t lock us out. We’re worried about you.”

At that, the lock clicks open. Conner raises an eyebrow, like he didn’t hear the footsteps; but it’s Tim, so they’re all more used to that than most people would be. 

Tim opens the door halfway and peers out. He’s padding about in his socks, stripped down to the lean bodysuit that makes up the base of his costume. He blinks at them, bewildered. “Worried about me? Why?”

Cassie glances to the other boys. They’re all thinking the same thing: that Tim’s attempt to appear bright-eyed can’t hide the heavy bags they carry, nor can his washed-out, drawn appearance be entirely blamed on the fluorescents in his room. 

“…can we come in?”

He steps back without hesitation. Cassie leads the charge inside. They’ve barely gotten settled — Tim on the bed, Cassie beside him, Kon in the desk chair, and Bart pacing — before Impulse follows through on his old nickname and blurts out his nerves. 

“You should stay here. Like, always. At least this week. Call in sick. Don’t go back to Gotham.”

Tim’s shoulders tense and his brow furls in confusion. Cassie cuts in for damage control. “You’re busy, we know but…gods, Tim, we’ve been so worried.”

It’s like a dam bursting from there. Their fears spill out one after the other, going in turns where one picks up where another left off. Tim’s brow gradually smooths and, with it, his whole face. He follows the path of their words like watching a bizarre three-way tennis match. 

Finally, before they can get themselves too worked up, he cuts in with one hand raised.

“Guys, _guys_. It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’m fine now. I swear.”

Bart catches Cassie’s eye and shrugs helplessly. When Tim talks like this, so rational and almost relaxed, it’s easy to believe that they’ve just been imagining things. 

“Sure, I was in a bad place,” Tim continues. “I went way off the rails, did some things I’m not proud of. I…I failed Batman’s test…” His expression falters, the lower lip giving a single uncertain tremble. “That’s why he doesn’t want to see me anymore. And why Dick had to find a new brother.” 

Cassie sucks a gasp through her teeth. “Tim…”

“But it’s fine! I’m getting better. Not good, not like before, but…better.” He glances between their expressions as his continues to fall. “I’m sorry, I’m just freaking you guys out, aren’t I? It’s my fault. I’m so bad at pretending to be normal.”

“That’s bullshit!” yelps Bart. Tim gives him a sad smile. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know things would be smoother for everyone if it were Damian on the team instead. I’m too pushy and cocky, and a know-it-all, and a prude…”

“Jesus Christ, Tim.” Conner’s voice is strangled. “Where are you getting this from?”

Tim shrugs. Cassie wants to shake him. 

Conner surges up, his feet hovering an inch over the floor. “It’s from her, isn’t it? Your goddamn girlfriend? I’m gonna wring her neck.”

Tim locks his spine, shoulders tense as a cat with its hackles raised. Cassie catches Conner’s wrist and pulls him back to the floor. “You’re not helping.”

“Let’s all just calm down.” Bart, ever the voice of reason (despite the buzz of anxious vibration in his tone), lays a hand on Tim’s shoulder and pushes gently until they’re made to relax. It doesn’t quite get rid of the tension, but it does settle him a bit.

Conner, likewise, sinks back into the office chair with a scowl. The silence that falls between them is smothering, heavy as soaked down quilt. Nobody looks at Tim directly, nor does he look at any of them. He stares at the floor between his feet, eyes unfocused, hands wringing. 

“This isn’t Steph’s fault,” he says finally. “She’s not a bad person. She doesn’t…I mean, she’s never…”

“Hurt you?” Bart supplies. 

Tim bites his lip. Fury surges through Cassie's chest before she remembers that beating each other black and blue is a part of their job training, especially when you’re a ‘mere’ mortal. And that Tim, for all his skill at lying, hates to do so carelessly.

She sighs, finally voicing the question that’s been nagging her all this time.

“Why did you go back to her? You’ve broken up, what, three times? And two of those were after betrayals of trust. So why do you keep going back?”

Tim blinks, like he’s never considered the question. “Because…Because I have to. We’re meant to be together. She’s the only one who…nobody else could ever love someone like me.” 

Cassie lurches forward, rakes her fingers through Tim's hair and pulls him in before her conscience can think better. If he wanted to push her away, he could; she keeps her hold loose and her strength in check. He doesn't try. 

She kisses him. It is so much like their first kiss, in that it is full of desperation and need and unspoken desire; but it is also entirely unlike it, in that Cassie has never been so sure of anything in her entire life. 

He pants when she pulls away, wet gasps that leave no room for words or thought. She looks to the others, their boys, their missing pieces. Both catch her meaning in a glance. 

Bart tugs Tim by the arm and into a dip that sprawls across his lap. One kiss, too quick, becomes dozens, peppering Tim’s lips and cheeks and, soon, his entire face. 

Then he passes to Kon, who slides into a kneel and bundles Tim into a protective embrace. He is strong, so strong, but also so gentle. He tilts Tim’s head up with his fingers and looks deep into his eyes before kissing him, soft and sweet. 

“_We_ love you, Tim.” Cassie lays a hand on Tim’s back and leans in, turning the embrace into a group hug. Bart covers her hand with his own and joins in, pinning their Robin between all three. “We’ve always loved you, just as you are.”

“It’s not just us,” Kon murmurs as his lips slide off Tim’s. “Batgirl — the other one, your sister. The other Cassandra. She loves you too.”

“And Batman,” says Bart. “And Nightwing. Even if they’re bad at saying it.”

“And Starfire,” adds Cassie. “And Rose and Gar and Cissie and Greta and Jaime and Raven and Miguel…”

She clutches them, crushes them, holds tight as she can without bruising mortal skin. Her team. Her boys. She loves them all so much her heart can barely stand it. That Tim, who is loved by so many more besides, could ever be led to think otherwise tears at her very soul.

“Please, Tim. Please stay. Don’t go back to Gotham, just for a while. Please. For us?”

Tim shivers. He’s got his eyes closed, and his head drifts to rest on Kon’s shoulder. He holds Cassie’s hand, leans into Bart’s touch, and breathes a relieved sigh. 

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

Eight days. Thirty-six texts. None read.

Steph scowls at her phone, pacing the last dock outside Gotham’s lone stretch of usable coastline. There’s a crowd building nearby, one she _should_ be part of; it’s full of her fellow Gotham U students blowing off steam after their final exams. But. It’s all behind a cover charge, and she is being stood up.

She waits five minutes after her thirty-seventh text and, when it too goes unread, thumbs angrily at Tim’s number. Her last four tries all went to generic voicemail, which cut off before she could leave a message. This time, the call finally picks up on the third ring. She lays in before he can make some lame excuse.

“Helloooo, Boy Blunder? Where the hell are you? Don’t tell me you forgot about the concert.” She grits her teeth as the first warm-up strings of the opening act drift over the crowd. “You owe me this. You wasted a whole weekend with your goddamn Burger King Kids Club, so you’d better damn well drag your pasty butt down here before—”

_click._

She stares dumbly at the black screen. WayNet phones don’t drop calls on the Gotham network, especially not the ones provided by Batman Inc. An angry heat floods her chest as she redials.

“What the hell was that? If you think for a second—”

_click._

The heat spreads to her face. Her hands shake with fury as she dials one more time.

“Timothy Jackson Drake, if you hang up on me one more time…”

“Batgirl.”

Steph shuts her mouth so fast she almost bites her tongue. The voice on the other end is mature, feminine and familiar. Definitely not Tim.

“…Oracle?”

“Come to the penthouse. Now.” There’s a flurry of keyboard clacks under Barbara’s even tone. “It should take you thirty minutes. Do not attempt to call again.”

She hangs up, leaving Steph with only confusion and a chill that has nothing to do with the ocean breeze.

* * *

She goes, of course. When Oracle says “jump,” the Bats ask “how high?” And that goes double for Batgirl.

She takes her bike and makes it with five minutes to spare, most of which gets eaten by the elevator from the garage. Once she clears the electronic security and punches her passcode in at the door, she steps into the main room to find Babs waiting with Dick and Bruce.

“Sit down,” says Babs, cutting Steph off in lieu of greeting. Steph sinks into a chair and shares a glance with Dick, who looks as confused as she feels. Barbara faces him next. “Where’s Damian?”

“School trip to the Metropolis Zoo.”

“Good. The further he is from this, the better.”

Bruce shifts in that deliberate way that asserts his authority without leaving his seat. “What is this about?”

“Tim.”

“What about Tim?" Dick switch to high alert, sitting up straight on the couch. "Is he okay? I haven’t seen him lately.”

“He’s safe. For now.”

And…okay, yeah, Babs is definitely giving Steph the evil eye. Steph shifts in her chair just to be sure, and the bespectacled gaze of…anger? Disappointment? Is definitely following her.

It lasts only until Babs sets her jaw and wheels herself back to a laptop on the dining table. “I’m going to play a few things. First is a compilation taken from several dozen incidents from the last three months.”

She taps a few keys and sits back as the room’s wireless speakers come online. There’s a few seconds of white noise before the clip begins in earnest, starting with young, feminine laughter.

_“Nice costume design, Timbo. You moving to Vegas?”_

Steph jolts upright. The voice is her own, from a conversation she vaguely remembers having the last time she snuck into Tim’s Nest. Another clip, clearly recorded at another time, cuts her realization off in mid-thought.

_“God, do you **ever** talk about anything else? It’s always blah blah **computers** with you. Blah blah **Young Justice** blah **I wanna suck Superboy’s dick**. Get a life.”_

And it keeps coming. Sometimes, there’s a line from Tim — usually muttered, sometimes indistinct — but it always comes back to Steph, especially when she cuts him off.

_“This is why Dick likes Damian better, you know. The brat’s not such a needy little creep.”_

_“No wonder nobody wants you around.”_

_“Batman won’t talk to **you**. Don’t you remember? You fucked up. You’re not Daddy’s favorite anymore.”_

_“You’re pathetic, Red. But don’t worry. At least **I’ll** always love you.”_

This goes on for ten minutes, without repeating a single line. By the end, Steph’s face burns so hot she can hear the steam whistle.

“What the fuck was that?” she demands the instant Oracle ends the clip. “You record our comm lines?!”

“Blackbox server. To be accessed only in case of emergencies. I decided this counts.” Babs keeps both her tone and her expression cool as ice while she turns her attention to Bruce. “The Teen Titans, specifically the former members of Young Justice, called me last week to ask that I block all non-emergency contact from Gotham, especially from Batgirl. They’re concerned that Tim has been suffering emotional abuse, and they won’t send him back until they know he’ll be safe here.”

Realization dawns on Bruce and Dick, the former setting his jaw while the latter gives way to abject horror. It clicks for Steph a moment later. She shoots out of her chair.

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you believe that shit!”

“I didn’t,” says Babs, with caustic disapproval. “Until I did the research and heard for myself. There’s over a hundred hours of that in the last year alone.”

“‘Of that’?” Steph makes the biggest, most sarcastic air quotes she can muster. “You mean, of _teasing_? You know, jokes?”

“This is **no** joke, young lady!”

Steph reals away from Babs, her ego stinging like she’s been slapped. She can’t remember the last time she saw so much raw anger burning behind those green eyes.

Oracle scowls, giving the impression that she’s looking down her nose even as she has to tip her head back to meet Steph’s gaze. The hardness lingers as she turns once more to Bruce. “There’s another recording. From Titan’s Tower, eight days ago. The team staged an intervention and…it’s awful.” Her face softens to something like despair. “The way Tim talks about himself…we should have noticed months ago.”

“I don’t believe this.” The words sound pathetic even to Steph’s own ears. There’s a pang of concern deep in her chest, but it’s quickly smothered by simmering anger. “Bruce. Come on. You know me. You know what my family’s like, who my dad is. For god’s sake, I’m Batgirl! I can’t be some kind of monster!”

It is not Bruce, but Batman who looks back at her. Every hint of emotion or weakness has been carefully hidden beneath the metaphorical mask. “Abusers aren’t monsters,” he says, slow and grave. “They’re just people, who hurt others.” To Babs, he adds, “Play the Titans tape.”

Steph gapes at him, opening and closing her mouth without words. She spins on Nightwing. “Dick…”

“You told Tim I didn’t want him around.” Dick’s expression is nothing less than betrayed. “That we didn’t care about him, as if we don’t love him. How could you?”

Steph flushes hot crimson. What can she say? That she’d only told Tim that so he’d stop whining about wanting to patrol with others? For fuck’s sake, he’s eighteen! A legal adult! He can’t rely on Big Brother forever. Someone had to cut the umbilical cord. Doesn’t anyone else see that?

Apparently not. Barbara starts up the clip from Titans Tower, drawing both Bruce and Dick’s attention, Steph hears none of it. She stares at their backs in disbelief until the frustration and anger boils out of her. She grits her teeth, muting it to a wordless shriek, and storms out unacknowledged by anyone else.

In the hall, she tries again to call Tim. This time, it doesn’t even dial, just blares a denying buzzer and bricks her entire phone. Steph swears and spikes it off the marble, where it shatters. She barely lingers to indulge in its destruction before storming back to the bunker for her spare costume. After all this bullshit, she deserves a round of head-busting on patrol. It’ll be good practice.

* * *

  
Bart’s fastest time to Gotham from San Fran and back is two minutes, five seconds, so everyone is more than a little suspicious when the round trip takes him ten.

He re-appears in the rec room with a rush of wind and a huge smile, bearing a plastic case of file folders in one hand and a hefty bag over the other shoulder. “I’m baaack! These the ones you wanted?”

He hands the case over to Tim, who shifts through the folders and checks every label in turn. His eyes light up, which soothes Cassie’s concern. They’re up to ten days away from Gotham, and with each one Tim grows a bit more like himself, to the point that his interest for things like personal case files has returned with a vengeance. The problem had been that Spoiler — Stephanie, Batgirl, _whatever_ — had berated him so often about ‘running off on his own’ that he’d finally agreed to leave his materials at her apartment. Cassie suspected that she’d been stealing his work, but Tim denied it.

Still, his spare key worked, and Bart had been able to get in and out of the apartment while Spoiler was at class. With the risk of a confrontation well past, Cassie can't help but beam as Tim gives Bart a genuine smile. “That’s all of them, all right. Thanks Bart.”

“I also took the liberty of grabbing your Zesti.” Preening like a peacock, Bart proudly produces a chilld twelve-pack of Tim’s preferred caffeine, from which two cans are already missing. He pulls it from the hefty bag, which sits heavily on the floor with the full weight of a secret bounty.

By now, Cassie and Conner have likewise drifted over, she settling on the arm of Tim’s couch while he covers Bart’s back just in case. Cassie points to the sack with a questioning raised eyebrow. “So, what else is in there?”

Bart pulls the biggest, widest and most comedically innocent puppy dog eyes that Cassie has ever seen. His Kid Flash goggles make them look huge. “Nothing.”

“Bart,” says Conner with a grin. “What did you do?”

“Weellllll…”

With a broad smile, Bart turns the bag over and dumps its contents onto the floor. Cassie barely has time to register the pile of pumps, sneakers, boots and heels before she starts laughing.

“You stole her shoes?!”

“Only the left ones! I also took the batteries from the remote controls and filled all the cabinets with ping-pong balls!”

He’s so dang proud that Cassie can’t help herself. She doubles over laughing. Conner does too, and even Tim dissolves into sputtering giggles, though he tries to hide them with his hands.

“Bart!” he manages, drawing out the ‘a.’ “You can’t just do stuff like that! You’re going to make her mad…”

Despite his words, the laughter doesn’t calm for another minute. Once it settles, Cassie slips from her perch onto the cushions and opens her body language towards Tim.

“Does that scare you?” she asks softly. “Making her mad?”

His gaze goes distant. He’s looked like that a lot these past few days.

Before they get any further, they’re interrupted by Gar sticking his head out of the elevator. “Yo, guys? Oracle’s on the secure channel. She says it’s not an emergency, but she’d like to talk if Tim’s up to it. Nightwing’s there too.”

All eyes turn to Tim. His gaze falls to the floor. Then he sets the case files aside. “I’m up to it. I’ve missed them.”

So they all pile into the elevator and head down to the central communications hub at the heart of Titan’s Tower. There, they find Raven and Starfire having a soft conversation with the projections of Nightwing and Oracle on the main screen. Raven notices them first and nudges Starfire that they should leave. Kory lingers only long enough to give Tim a sun-warm hug before they go.

There’s an anxiety to Dick and Babs’ expressions, moreso the former. But when he lays eyes on Tim, Nightwing tentatively lights up.

“Tim! Hey kiddo. How’re you feeling?”

The attempt at cheer goes over like a lead balloon. He knows what’s been going on, and they would all know that he knows even if Oracle hadn’t informed them the moment Batman and Nightwing were debriefed. Tim bites his lip and looks at the floor again. “To be honest,” he says finally. “I’m not sure how I feel.”

Nightwing’s face falls. Without his mask, he’s an open book. Cassie’s heart echoes his sentiments.

“I’ve been thinking a lot. Resting, mostly. Hanging out. Going over things in my head. There’s been…a lot.”

Oracle sighs. She’s been their point of contact so far, and the one to ferry Batman’s terse encouragement to take all the downtime he needs. And she must be bearing the brunt of Spoiler’s frustrations too. Cassie envies her fortitude.

“I’d like to say you have all the time you need,” she says. “But that might not be the case.”

Every Titan in the room bristles, including Gar.

“Batgirl’s on strict orders not to leave Gotham City. But following orders isn’t exactly her style, and you all know how impossible it is to keep head-strong heroes where they don’t want to be.” Oracle shakes her head, rustling her auburn bob. “We’ve got trackers in all her gear but…”

She shrugs. Something petty and angry rises in Cassie’s gut.

_Let her come,_ she thinks. _Let’s see what that bitch can do against a speedster, an Amazon, and a half-Kryptonian._

She keeps that under wraps, but only barely.

Tim sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I should talk to her.”

Cassie, Conner and Bart all start to protest, with Nightwing echoing from the monitor. Tim silences them all with a raised hand.

“No. I _need_ to talk to her, and not when she’s all riled up from fighting. It should be on neutral ground. In Gotham.” He glances back and catches Cassie’s eye, hands folded like he’s trying to hide a tremor. “Will you guys come too?”

“Duh!” shouts Bart, speaking for them all.

On-screen, Oracle nods. “We’ll clear it with Batman. Give us two days. You want the Penthouse?”

“Please.”

Tim drops his hands where the camera won’t see them, but Cassie can. His fingers search the hem of his t-shirt, looking for something to shred out of nerves.

“Can, uh…can you two make it, too? I know you’re busy…”

“We’ll make time,” says Nightwing at once. It’s almost enough to make Cassie forget the Robin replacement thing. Almost.

Oracle seems to approve too, as she reaches back and takes Dick’s hand. “Tell us what you need, Tim. We’ll make it happen.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IMPORTANT:** This chapter requires an extra trigger warning for some slight physical violence, lots of yelling, and a DISCUSSION (but not depiction) of roofies and date rape. Reader discretion is advised.

The four arrive first, in plain street clothes like Tim had asked. According to him, the downtown Gotham penthouse — which is easily the richest place Cassie has set foot in short of Olympus itself — was Dick and Damian’s H.Q. when they were Batman and Robin. If she tries, she can see the evidence of that, mostly in jagged sword or knife wounds in the mahogany decor. Still, its central room is a pleasant place, all warm colors and thick velvet curtains. It’s almost enough to soothe their nerves.

As their designated meeting time of six p.m. creeps closer, the team spread out around the couches and armchairs of the central room. Bart darts into the kitchen for snacks, but is never gone longer than it takes the rest of them to notice. Nobody wants to stray too far from Tim, though they also give him space. He's hunched on one of the small sofas with fingers entwined over his knees. He’s been staring at the rug since they got here, his eyes unfocused and lost in thought.

Two minutes to show time, Cassie drifts over and stands behind his couch, gently ruffling his hair. “You ready for this?”

“No," Tim sighs. "But it’ll be worse if we put it off.”

At six on the dot, there’s a knock at the front door. It’s a courtesy call, of course. The Bats all have passcodes, while the Titans had to use Tim’s. But it gives them a moment to reconvene, with Cassie, Conner and Bart angling themselves towards the door.

Spoiler — Cassie knows that she has a name, knows that she’s Batgirl now, but it’s hard to think of her as anything else — comes striding in wearing jeans and a cheap shirt, with Nightwing and Oracle at her heels. Without a word, she beelines straight for Tim. Conner and Bart step in to block her path. Her gaze dart between them and Cassie, and her lips pull back into a snarl.

“Stephanie.” Nightwing’s word is a low warning. These months with Damian have clearly been a good workout for his Stern Dad voice.

Spoiler scowls, but backs down, crossing her arms in a huff. Up close, Cassie can appreciate that she is pretty. She’s fuller-figured and softer around the edges than other non-metas like Mia, Cissie or Rose. It masks an athletic strength, especially in the upper body. She’s a scrapper, not a warrior or a ninja; the girl next door who can hold her own in a street brawl.

So, yes, Cassie can see why a sweet boy like Tim would fall in love with her. But beneath those smooth edges and hidden strength lies a hard and bitter core, one that Cassie has known all her life. She’s seen it in the school bullies who picked on her younger self and in the resentment of older classmates jealous of her role at Diana's side.

Oracle wheels herself pointedly between the two groups, prompting both to take a step back. She’s carrying a small treat box in her lap, with a thermos tucked alongside. “Alfred sent snacks. If you give us a minute, we can set up.”

“No, thank you,” says Tim as he stands. “This won’t take that long.”

He nudges past Conner and Bart, who don’t try to stop him, and approaches Spoiler, though he stays a few steps out of arm’s reach. Spoiler doesn’t move, though her body language sours an extra notch. Tim rubs his palms on his jeans and, with visible effort, drags his gaze up to look her in the eye. Spoiler looks ready to start tapping her foot.

“Well?” she demands.

“...Do you remember out last break-up?”

“Of course I remember. You told me to fuck off for being a shitty vigilante.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Spoiler rolls her eyes. Before her mouth is half-open, Tim cuts her off.

“No. Just, stop. I’m not letting you put words in my mouth again.”

Cassie’s inner war god gives a triumphant cheer. She limits its outward expression to a smirk.

“What I told you back then was that I never wanted to see you in costume again. That’s on me. I was hurt and scared and grieving. I wasn’t thinking straight. I said the first thing that came to mind and it came out all wrong.

“What I should have said back then, what I meant, is this: I never want to see _you_ again, Steph. In costume or out.”

Bart blurs into a rush of wind. He ends up right where he started, so it’s like he never moved, but the rattle of china and rustle of shelves betray the victory lap he’s run around the penthouse.

“Wear whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Call yourself by any name you like. Just leave me out of it.”

A laugh burst from Conner. He cackles through a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank _fuck_.”

Spoiler sets her jaw and curls her fists, her entire body going lock-tense. Her eyes haven’t left Tim, who likewise refuses to back down even as Bart smacks him on the back.

“I can’t trust you,” he continues. “Not as crime-fighter, and definitely not as a partner. You’re too willing to use me, to go behind my back and throw me under the bus. You…You put me down all the time, you insult my friends, you hired people to _attack_ me—”

“On Batman’s orders!”

_“But you were the one who did it!”_ It’s the first time in years that Cassie has heard Tim yell outside of battle. He hasn’t raised his voice in a team argument since the early days of Young Justice. Now, he’s red-faced and shaking. His voice threatens to crack. “Bruce was unstable. He was being drugged and manipulated. We could all see it. But you? For all your talk about not letting him order you around, you jumped at the chance to win his approval.” His tone slips from burning to bitter. “It wasn’t the first time, either. Or the last. And every single time, you blamed me. Or Bruce. Or your father. Anyone but yourself.”

He grows smaller under their gaze, shoulders sinking as anger gives way to exhaustion. The heartbroken look he gives Spoiler makes Cassie’s chest ache.

“I know you didn’t mean to do it. Hell, even I didn’t notice how you were getting under my skin until we spent time apart. You’re a good person. A hero. But you keep hurting me. And, after all this time, that’s not going to stop. So I need you to stay away from me. For good.” He closes his eyes, like he can’t bare to look at her anymore. “I’m sorry, Steph. I’m sorry I bring out the worst in you.”

Nightwing — or rather, Dick, since none of them are in costume — looks stricken. He’s been hovering behind Spoiler this whole time, the same way Cassie and the boys linger behind Tim. Cassie can’t even imagine how he and Oracle must be feeling. If their situations were reversed, and she was dealing with Artemis or — gods forbid — _Donna_ hurting one of their Amazon sisters, she doesn’t know what she’d do either.

To her credit, Oracle remains calm, her face a well-schooled mask. Spoiler is likewise blank-faced, though hers is not so well-trained. It can't hide her annoyance at all.

“Are you done?” she demands.

Tim frowns, but nods.

“Good. Now, you listen to me.”

She steps forward. Tim steps back. Everyone else, from Conner to Oracle, goes on high alert. Cassie can hear her own heartbeat.

“I don’t accept this,” says Spoiler with barely restrained contempt. “I refuse. And I won’t let you run away.”

“Steph, just calm down,” Dick calls, but she doesn’t break stride.

As she closes in, Tim takes another step back. “Don’t touch me.”

She seizes his shoulder.

“We can work through this. I know we can. We just have to try. You and me, we’re iconic. We’re Batgirl and Robin! Whatever they’ve filled your head with, its not—”

Faster than blinking, Bart grabs her wrist. His hand buzzes with contained fury. So many people forget, because Impulse is so wild and happy, that Bart Allen is a fiercely powerful speedster. Perhaps the most powerful. His hold on Spoiler comes with an unspoken warning: if he wanted, he could wear this wrist down to the bone.

“Tim said not to touch him,” he growls. “So don’t. Touch.”

Spoiler makes a face, but she’s smart enough not to pick a direct fight with three meta-humans. She uncurls her fingers and lifts her palm from Tim’s shoulder. Only then does Bart allow her to pull away.

Though shaken, Tim does not back further down. “You’re not ‘my’ Batgirl,” he says instead. “You never were. Cass is.”

“She’s your sister—”

“Enough.” Pain lingers Tim's expression, but exhaustion even more so. “There’s no working through this. It’s too late. I’m sorry, but it’s over. We’re over. Maybe we never should’ve begun.” He gives a final, defeated shrug. “I’m not what you wanted. I always kind of knew. You’ve always been more in love with ‘Robin’ than with me.”

For a split second, Spoiler’s expression betrays her every thought. First, shock. Then, a fleeting flash of guilt. And finally, anger.

It all passes in less than a blink, before the air splits with a thunderous _smack!_

Tim staggers, his left cheek a violent red. Before Spoiler can even finish her back-swing, Cassie takes her to the ground with an Amazon war-cry. All the Bat-training in the world can’t help her. Cassie is knows all of Tim’s tricks. She has her opponent pinned face-down, with one arm wrenched behind her, before the others can react.

She digs her knee into Spoiler’s back, fisting blond hair with her free hand and pushing that shocked face into the floor. “If you ever, _ever_ lay a hand on him again,” she snarls. “I will rip it off. Swear to the Gods I will, you selfish little—”

“Cassie, jeez!”

Bart and Conner haul Cassie back by the arms. Once she’s on her feet, they brace her shoulders in a mix of support and restraint. Cassie could break free. But she won’t. She’s made her point.

Nightwing helps Spoiler up and holds her when she tries to lunge for retribution. She has a bruise forming that will match the one she gave Tim. Seeing it gives Cassie a surge of satisfaction.

Oracle steps in, steering her chair firmly between Bats and Titans. She catches Tim’s hand, tugs him down to check his cheek, and sighs. “Let’s all calm down.”

“Oh, sure.” Spoiler laughs without humor. “I’ll just chill out over here while these assholes drag my name through the mud. That’ll fix everything.”

“Stephanie…”

Spoiler elbows Dick to shut him up and fixes Cassie with glare so venomous it could give Medusa a run for her money. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Wonder-Skank? Please. I’ve had you and Super-Manwhore over there pegged since you were fifteen.”

Cassie shifts in Bart’s grip, switching from him holding her back to her gripping his arm. Neither she nor Conner rise to the insults, though Tim had also gone stiff, his face newly flushed with anger.

“You’ve always hated me,” Spoiler continues. “You’re pissed that somebody normal got to him first.”

“That’s not true,” says Cassie, soft but firm. She doesn’t care what Spoiler thinks, but she doesn’t want Tim getting the wrong idea.

“Of course it is! That’s why you’ve spent the last month turning him against me. Probably before that, too.” A grin spread across Spoiler’s face, so smug and self-satisfied that Cassie’s tempted to hit her again. “Well, sucks to be you. I’ll _always_ be his first. You can’t take that away from me.”

“What are you talking about?”

All eyes turn to Tim, whose startled face mirrors their collective confusion. The flush of anger is gone, replaced by dwindling color even as he keeps his address steady and controlled.

“You and I never…I told you, I _always_ tell you, I want to wait. With everything else going on, the last thing I need to worry about is STDs or broken condoms or…or…”

He gestures vaguely to indicate the sum total of all that is sex. Spoiler’s face goes so red she looks about to explode.

“Don’t fuck with me, Tim. I swear to god, if you think—” She cut herself off with a frustrated noise and finally wrenches out of Nightwing’s grip. “It was last month! After that warehouse party!”

Tim’s eyebrows scrunch until they’re almost touching. Something cold slips into Cassie’s heart.

_Don’t tell me…_

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” says Nightwing, in the tone of one who is grasping at straws.

“I don’t. And it was totally illegal, but Steph insisted we go. Said that’s what normal teens would do.” Tim puts a hand to his head, like that could somehow pin down his memories. “It was loud. And crowded. And everyone was drinking. We got split up. Someone gave me a Zesti and…”

His eyes widen with dawning horror.

“And the next thing I remember is waking up in your apartment.”

  
  


* * *

  
“No.”

Steph almost wishes Dick still had her in his grip, if only so she'd have someone to support her as realization sinks in and her body locks up. 

“No. No, you’re lying.”

Tim looks at her sadly, like _he_ feels sorry for _her_. “Someone must’ve spiked my drink.”

“No. Dammit, no!”

She lurches away from Dick and stumbles, wracking her brain for proof of a lie. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. It’s all a trick, some sick joke.

But…

But she remembers everything. She’d only had one beer, and by the time they got back to her apartment she wasn’t even buzzed. Sure, Tim had been quiet as they came home, but he was always worn out after parties. That’s normal for introverts, right? So she hadn’t thought anything of it as they stripped down and went to bed and she…

She pulls at her hair, almost as hard as Wonder-Bitch did during their fight. She’d been so happy when he hadn’t pushed her away. Hell, he _responded_. He kissed back! She’d thought he was finally giving in, after all this time!

Only now could she see: he had only responded. No initiation, all instinct. Reacting to sensation. He'd even started crying but she thought…she’d thought he was just overwhelmed…!

She’s vaguely aware of the others moving around her, of Babs wheeling close to speak with Tim in soft tones and Dick shifting to put himself between her and the Titans. Between her and Tim. Her victim.

“I think we’re done here,” says Wonder Girl softly, like Steph is a bomb set with a voice sensor. “We should go.”

“Yeah…” mutters Dick. He looks stricken, like he’s aged ten years. Oh fuck, some psycho-bitch did this to him too, didn’t she? A full-on villain. What makes Steph any better?

_I didn’t mean to!_ Her mind wails. _I didn’t mean to do it!_

But she did do it. She did it without a second thought, without caring what he wanted at all.

As the Titans bundle Tim out, Steph turns to avoid seeing him again and locks eyes with Babs. She expects anger. She deserves anger, condemnation, jail time for fuck’s sake. But that’s not what she finds.

Barbara, Oracle, the original Batgirl, looks at her with _pity_, which is so much worse. It gives way to sorrow once the outsiders leave. Then, sniffling. Dick wraps her in a hug, tucking her face into his shoulder as he buries his own in red hair.

Steph sinks to her knees. She stares at the carpet, willing herself to wake up, for this whole thing to be a mistake, some awful dream. But in her heart and her gut, she knows that it’s all true. She did this, all on her own. And she’ll have to live with it from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, always makes sure your sexual partner is cognizant, sober and capable of granting consent.


	4. Chapter 4

By grace of the gods, the Titans have rented a suite at the Gotham Heights hotel, only a few blocks away. They leave through the penthouse window. Bart runs on ahead, meets them on the balcony with the door open and all the lights lit.

They usher Tim inside, each taking care not to touch long as they wrap him in one of the comforters. He’d been in something like shock when they left. Now, he squirms and bats at their hands even as he sinks into the sofa they’d guided him to. 

“Guys, I’m fine,” he insists, without much force. “Really. I’m not going to fall apart.”

“You can if you need to.” Cassie settles in beside him and rests a hand upon his knee. “We’ll put you back together.”

“Yeah, we’ll be your king’s men!”

They all stare at Bart, who take a few real-time minutes to realize that they didn’t get his reference. 

“Like the egg poem. ‘All the king’s horses and all the king’s men—’”

“Point is,” Kon gives Bart a nod of understanding and brings the focus back to Tim. “We’re here for you. You don’t have to power through this acting like Mr. Big-Shot All-Tough-All-the-Time Super-Badass.”

“But I’m not acting!” The shrill uptick in Tim’s voice does nothing to prove his point. He looks between them, wild-eyed, and flails hands in frustration. “I’m not. If something happened, I don’t even remember it. I don’t remember anything. It’s like it never even—” 

A sharp knock on the suite door makes them all jump. Bart tosses a throw pillow at Tim and darts to answer, pausing a few deliberate seconds to pretend that crossing the room took time. “Yessss?”

“Pardon me, sir. This was delivered to the front desk.”

A few whispered exchanges later, the door closes and Bart zips back to the couch, holding a thermos and tupperware almost identical to those Barbara had offered. “Alfred sent snacks! There’s a letter, too. Do you want it?”

Tim takes the offered page. “This is Bruce’s handwriting…”

He scans it in efficient silence. When his eyes reached the bottom, they — at long last — began to flood with tears.

Cassie takes it from him and, heart pounding, reads: 

>   
_Tim,_
> 
> _I’m sorry. _
> 
> _I’ve been told I’m terrible at saying that, so I thought it best to try writing this message instead. I want no more miscommunication between us. _
> 
> _I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel unwelcome. I’m sorry that I let fear cloud my judgment, that I forgot your true character. And most of all, I’m sorry for assuming you were okay. You needed someone to notice your struggles. I failed. But I thank heaven that your friends did not._
> 
> _After all that’s happened, you may want to take some time away. From Gotham, from the company, from the mask. From everything. That’s fine. Whatever you need, in time or space, take it. Just know that you will always have a home here, with us, and that you can always, always call me. For any reason._
> 
> _I love you, son. _
> 
> _Your father,_   
_Bruce_

  
She lets out a shaky breath and passes the note to Kon. Between them, Tim clenches his fists against his knees. “I’m so _stupid_.”

“Oh Tim, no…”

“I am. I should have known.” The tears are pouring hard now. His breath hitches in a sob. “I’ve been _trained._ I know what abuse looks like, what it does to people. And I know what rohypnol tastes like. And ketamine. And alcohol. I…I should have _known_.” 

He buries his face in his hands. Cassie shushes him and rubs soothing circles into his spine. Kon leans in from the opposite side, guarding Tim’s flank as his TTK folds across them like a blanket. Bart kneels on the floor, rests his chin on Tim’s knee, and waits for those baby blues to re-emerge. 

“None of this is your fault,” Cassie whispers, with a silent vow to repeat this mantra as often and as long as he needs. “You’re not to blame, and you’re not stupid. It’s okay to hurt. Just let it all out. We’ve got you.”

He sobs again, but leans into her touch instead of away. One hand rubs at his face while the other gropes until it finds Bart’s, holding on like a lifeline. His head tilts towards Kon. Young Justice closes rank, draws together, and offers all they can in support and love.

And thus, the healing can finally begin.

* * *

  
**Two months later**

It’s good to know that even Gotham isn’t immune to bright summer days. Cassie idles a bit through the clean, clear skies of the Bristol County countryside before angling down to the stately manor that is her destination. She lands in the surrounding trees and zips up her hoodie to hide Wonder Girl’s logo, before making her way up the walk to the front door.

It takes only a few minutes after she rings the bell for the doors to open. Alfred smiles out at her from the inside. “Good afternoon, Ms. Sandsmark. Master Bruce and Ms. Gordon await you in the salon.”

Cassie thanks the old butler with a hug before making her way to the room in question. Plain-clothes Batman rises to greet her as she enters, but Oracle in her wheelchair beats him to it.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, extending her hand to Cassie’s for a shake. “I’m not entirely sure why you’re here, but…”

She shrugs. Which means she and likely Bruce know the broad strokes of why this meeting was called, but not Cassie’s roll in it. Interesting.

Cassie hums noncommittally in response and offers her hand to Bruce, whose handshake feels well-practiced even while he’s clearly distracted. The first thing out of his mouth is, “How’s Tim?”

“Better,” says Cassie, softening their concern with a smile. “Bringing Black Bat in helped a lot.” 

The Other Cassandra (as Bart affectionately calls her) flew in a week after their penthouse meeting and all but moved into Titan’s Tower, specifically the spare room next to Tim’s. Cassie had never met the former Batgirl before but, for all that they’ve only exchanged a dozen words, she likes the girl immensely. That steady, silent presence is a real relief when the inherent chaos of Titans life gets too strong.

“They’ve spent a lot of time on the roof together, just watching the ocean. But I think he’s getting restless. We can tell he wants to come back to Gotham. He’s just afraid of…I don’t know. Making it awkward.” 

“Well, he won’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

Spoiler…no. Stephanie. Her name is Stephanie Brown, and she’s arrived at the door dressed in street clothes, with a backpack over her shoulders and what looks to be a large silver suitcase in one hand. She looks more pensive than she had at their last meetings. There’s distinct bags under her eyes, and her posture is more reserved. Less demanding of attention. 

She nods to acknowledge Cassie’s presence before crossing to the coffee table and laying the suitcase in front of Barbara. “Here it is. Everything that’s not already in the cave or one of your hidey-holes.”

“You don’t have to do this,” says Babs, even as she slides the suitcase closer to herself.

“Yes, I do.” The blonde gives a sad smile. Her fingers trace the bat-sigil on the suitcase before she steps back, pushing it completely to Barbara’s side. “She’s bigger than me. She always has been. And she belongs to you, to this city. Making her all about _me_ and what _I_ wanted to do? That was…wrong. So it’s better that she go to someone else, now.”

Barbara opens the case, revealing an array of Bat-patented anti-crime gear and a folded purple-and-black Batgirl costume. She looked it over with an appraising eye before nodding her approval. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Steph turns to face Cassie, then out again, taking a step back to address all three. She stands stiff, arms folded behind her, almost at military rest, like she doesn’t know what to do with her body. “The University of London has accepted my transfer. My mom’s gonna join me next month, but my flight leaves tonight. After that, Tim can come home, without running into me on accident.” 

She bits her lip, scuffs the carpet with her toe, and stares at the battered tips of her sneakers. 

“I’m…sorry. About all of this. About everything. I…” Her eyes began to water. She blinks hard and rubs the stray tears with her sleeve. “I know that doesn’t make up for anything. But I’m going to try to be a better person from now on.”

“You have that therapist’s number, the one Constantine recommended?” Bruce asks.

Stephanie nods and pats a strap pocket on her backpack. “Right here. And an appointment for next week.”

“Good. Don’t hesitate to call if you’re ever in trouble.”

The girl’s mouth turns up at one corner, but only slightly. It gives Cassie the feeling that, if she does call, it will only be as a last resort.

“I’ll come back some day. Once I’m worthy of your trust again, I’ll be back to prove it. However long that takes.” She turns to Cassie. Her lip, chapped from regular gnawing, dips under her teeth again. “Wonder Girl.” 

“Spoiler.”

Stephanie takes a deep breath, bracing herself before finally saying, “I’m sorry. For what I said about you and Superboy before. I was out of line.” Her shoulders slump like a weight has been lifted. She doesn’t look Cassie in the eye. “I just wanted you to know that. And also, that…I’m glad someone cared enough about him to notice. I don’t think I would have, if I were in your shoes. Take care of each other?”

“Always.” Cassie studies her face and, seeing no sign of deception, offers her hand. “Good luck where you’re going.”

Spoiler hesitates. Then accepts the handshake with a steady grip. “You too.”

* * *

  
Cassie sees Steph into her taxi for the airport, then bids farewell to the Bats and flies back to San Fran under her own power. Alfred sends along enough comfort food to keep even Bart happy for the night. It slows her down a little, but she still makes it to the Tower in time for movie night.

“About time, Princess!” bellows Rose the second she floats in from the roof. “We finally settled on a damn movie, now get your ass over here!”

On her left, Kiran giggles. They, Jaime, Gar, Raven and Starfire have all claimed places on or around the curved couches that fill the Tower’s entertainment room. Even Black Bat is there, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor in front of Bart and Conner.

And in the very center, wrapped in a blanket with a laptop poised on his knees, is Tim. He feels Cassie’s gaze and looks up to meet it, giving her a genuine smile. Neither strained nor tired, it’s a sight that’s coming on more and more often. One that Cassie can’t get enough of. 

She returns it, beaming at her team as she leaves the snacks on their coffee table and arcs over the dibs-calling hands. She settles between Tim and Kon, putting her arms around them both and gentle ruffling Tim’s hair. He leans into the touch, smiling even as his fingers fly across the keyboard, solving another of life’s great mysteries.

Cassie basks in his presence, and in the joy of having her team — her family — safe and near to her heart, where they belong.

Then Gar dims the overhead lights, and another Titan’s movie night begins.

**Author's Note:**

> Completed (with minor clean-up to previous chapters) 2/22/2020 
> 
> Thanks for reading all. <3


End file.
